“Is that where you want me, baby?”
She threads her fingers through my hair. “Y-yes, please.”
I flick her clit repeatedly with the tip of my tongue. “So sweet. You taste so good, baby. And you asked so nicely.” I flatten my tongue and take another long sweep, then make it pointy and penetrate her. Her juices leak onto my tongue, tangy and slick. I control her pelvis even more, lifting her so I can lick her anus, too.
She squeals, but I hold her thighs apart so she can’t clamp them closed, can’t get away from the torture of pleasure I want to bestow on her. I nip her labia, suck them. I know I could get her off, quick. She’s already gearing to blow, but the longer I hold her off, the bigger her orgasm, and for some reason, I’m feeling competitive, like I want this to be the best fucking orgasm of her life.
Maybe because I know I can’t keep her.
And I really want to fucking keep her.
I screw one finger into her while I flick her clit. She wriggles over it, trying to take me deeper. Greedy little thing. I add a second finger, close my lips around her tiny bud and suck.
She screams, but I back off, releasing her clit and pumping my fingers.
“Oh,” she pants. “Please. Oh please, oh...N-Nico.”
I fucking love that she said my name, even more than I loved when she called me sir earlier.
I especially love her moaning my name in that incendiary breathy fuck-me voice. I slow the pumping motion and instead curl my fingers to tickle her inner wall, seeking her G-spot. Her eyes fly wide when I find it, something akin to panic flaring. She writhes her pelvis on the leather couch. I pump my fingers so I hit the G-spot every time and she shrieks, her fingers tearing at my hair.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me.”
Her juices leak all over my fingers and her pussy squeezes, pulsing her release out in quick flutters. I let her finish, then massage her pussy with my fingers, a slow in and out and around, stirring inside her, then pulling my fingers out and sliding them up and down her slit. She shudders out another release.
She looks beautiful. Her blonde hair fans out around her on the couch, messy and adorable. Her eyes are glazed, lids heavy.
My cock throbs.
But I can’t do it.
Sondra
Nico stares at me like a starved animal, appearing almost pained with desire. He eases his fingers from me and rubs circles on my inner thighs with his thumbs. I’m boneless with the pleasure of my orgasm. Even without intercourse, I have to say it was the best climax I’ve ever had. Everything about the encounter made it hot, starting with the lead up of Nico strip searching me the day we met, then spanking me, then this. Combine that with Nico’s considerable skill and genuine interest in my pleasure, and I’m doubting this sexual experience will ever be beat.
And considering he hasn’t been satisfied yet, I don’t think it’s over.
How much better will it get?
“Th-thank you,” I say when my voice returns to me. My throat’s sore from crying out, which isn’t something I normally do.
Nico’s smile seems almost sad. “You’re so fucking sweet.” His hands roam up to my breasts. He lowers the zipper of my dress and pulls my boobs out of the bra cups. He pinches both my nipples at the same time, harder than I’m used to. My eyelids flare wide and energy zips back through my body at the slight pain.
“Get out of Vegas, Sondra Simonson.”
That was the last thing I expected him to say after bringing me to orgasm with his clever mouth and fingers. Before he’s gotten off.
He continues to make love to my breasts, squeezing them, thumbing my nipples. He lunges over me to flick his tongue over one stiff bud. “You’re too bright a light for a seedy place like this. It will tarnish you.” Another flick of his tongue. “I will tarnish you.”
His words aren’t jiving with his actions, so my brain is slow to catch up. What is he telling me?
“You came here for a fresh start. Your cousin’s here. I get it. But you should’ve gone home to Marshall, Michigan, baby.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows where I’m from, but hearing it sends a tingle up my spine. It’s partly fear—or the awareness of how dangerous this man is. How thoroughly he researched me. But there’s also an excitement in being the object of such intense scrutiny. Because clearly, he’s into me.
He watches me intently as he tugs and rolls my nipples. There’s conflict in his expression, or tension, and it grows exponentially every second. Suddenly, everything hardens. His jaw tightens, focus goes steely. “I’ll give you money for a fresh start.” He slaps my breast, and I cry out with surprise. “It’s not payment for sex, so don’t even go there.” He points a warning finger at me. “I want you to take it and get out of town. Don’t come back, piccolina.”